


A Very SuperWhoLockVengers Tale

by Writer_Lethogica



Category: Dr. Who, Sherlock (TV), Supernatural, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Other, Sort of random, request
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-25
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-06 03:35:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1101909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Writer_Lethogica/pseuds/Writer_Lethogica
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>From a request on Tumblr.</p>
<p>http://attackofthekillermexisaurusrex.tumblr.com/post/71115732494/smaug221b-gift-for-christmas-smaug221b</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Very SuperWhoLockVengers Tale

**Author's Note:**

> Yeah, I thought this was going to be something funny, but it sort of transformed into this. I hope this was what you wanted, smaug221b. Not beta-ed because I just did it because someone requested it. Enjoy! :)

Dean felt like he was the dork who came stallion to prom. He was leaning on the wall sipping fruit punch in a classy three piece. He glanced around the room. There was a punch bowl right next to him with plastic cups next to it on a table with a cheap plastic party cover on it. In the corner to his upper left was an old record player, playing tunes that could have been from the 40s. Why was he in a snazzy suit? Why the hell was that classical music playing in the background? WHY WAS THIS PUNCH NOT SPIKED? Dean was completely dumbfounded as he leaned there, sipping his fruit punch.

“Hello, Dean.”

Dean turned his gaze to Cas, who was just standing next to him in jeans and button down that was unbuttoned just enough. For a moment, Dean let himself give Cas a look down.

“Uh…Hey, Cas…what’s up?” said Dean, relaxing a bit more. Cas tilted hir head.

“I’m not sure. I thought you called for me,” said Cas. Dean gave him a perplexed look, shaking his head.

“No,” said Dean, “I don’t think I did.”

Cas’ eyes, deep in thought, pulled him in. Their intensity was superb, felt like the impact of a chain of supernovas, shifting from cerulean to celeste in the light.

“Am I interrupting something?”

Dean jumped. Dean and Cas turned to see a man with dark, curly hair observing them with an obnoxious air to him.

“Who the hell are _you_?” asked Dean.

“Sherlock Holmes,” said the British man, “Who are you two?”

Cas opened his mouth to say something, but was interrupted by a gigantic telephone booth appearing out of nowhere in the middle of the room. A fight could be heard in the booth before a tall man with a bowtie and fez was chucked out of the booth, the mysterious box disappearing and leaving the man behind. For a moment, all three men stared at the crazy man from the box who was just lying on the floor. The man suddenly moved, brushing dust off and adjusting his bowtie and fez.

“Well, that didn’t go as well as I thought it would,” mumbled the man to himself. The strange man jumped when he noticed the three other men staring at him.

“Who are _you people_?” said the man with a mixture of excitement, confusion, and curiosity.

Dean wondered if his day would get any stranger.

The answer was yes.

Just then a portal emerged in one of the walls, a bombastic juggernaut of a man toppling through the portal with gorgeous hair that could rival his brother’s hair.

“Where is he?” the man clad in LARPing clothes shouted, pointing his bizarre hammer at everyone, “Where is my brother?”

Instinctively, Dean stepped in front of Cas.

“Hey, buddy, calm down and put the…is that Mjölnir?” asked Dean.

“What?” said the man with the fez and bowtie. The first British man rolled his eyes.

“Mjölnir. Thor’s hammer,” said Sherlock.

The man with the fez and bowtie pouted as he crossed his arms.

“I knew that,” said the fez man.

“Oh, really?” asked Sherlock, raising an eyebrow.

“I was…testing you…I test people,” said the fez man.

“Yeah. Sure you do, big boy,” said Sherlock, looking away from the fez man.

“Hey! I do.”

The man who looked like he stepped out of a Viking movie stomped one foot and the room became silent.

“None of you are listening,” said the man, “Now, are you going to tell me where my brother is or am I going to have to—”

Suddenly, a hand touched the Viking man as the man fell through another portal. Dean glared.

“Gabriel,” said Dean, the name leaving a bad taste in his mouth.

“Hey, there, Dean-o. I sort of brought the wrong Avenger.”

“The wrong _what_?”

“Awkward. Here. I’ll give you a two-for-one special,” said Gabriel, two portals appearing as a man in an iron suit stumbled into the room and a paler man with long, black hair stepped in. The man with the black hair stared curiously at Loki.

“I feel like we have a connection of some sort, small man,” said the man, walking with his staff to Gabriel. Gabriel just smiled goofily with a hint of mischief in his eyes.

“A bit. I killed you in this dimension and used your identity as an alias.”

Dean blinked. Loki. Loki’s amused smile slowly turned into a line. Before Loki could react to what Gabriel said, Dean spoke.

“What the hell is going on, Gabriel? What’s the point of this all?” asked Dean. Gabriel only smiled.

“All the people with you right now are some of the smartest I could find. Good luck with _your_ problem,” said Gabriel, winking. Dean was confused.

“What do you mean?” asked Dean.

“Oh, Dean-o. This is exactly what I mean. You don’t even know what’s up with you,” said Gabriel, shaking his head as he disappeared into another portal. Dean swore, not understanding what Gabriel meant. What was up with him? Nothing was up with him!

Slowly, he noticed that everyone was looking at him.

“What?” said Dean defensively. Dean tensed up.

“Well,” said the man in the iron suit as he took off the helmet, “We were brought here to help you with something. What do you suppose it is?”

It wasn’t until Cas put hir hand on his shoulder that he relaxed. Dean glanced behind him to Cas who was gazing at him with that intensity, hir worriment making Dean nervous. He tried to show through his eyes that he was alright to Cas, hoping that the multidimensional being of celestial intent would understand.

“Oh,” said the fez man, “So _that’s_ what’s going on.”

Sherlock hummed, raising an eyebrow at Dean and Cas. Dean didn’t feel like dealing with this.

“ _What_?” said Dean, glaring at these people, “What are you two thinking?”

Loki groaned, rolling his eyes.

“Oh, _come on_ , it’s so obvious!” said Loki, turning to the man in the iron suit, “You can see it too, right, superhero?”

The man in the iron suit glanced from Loki to Dean and Cas.

“Yeah, I don’t get why we were brought here. What is this, a romcom sitcom?” asked the man dubbed ‘superhero’, crossing his arms.

“R-r-romcom sitcom?” echoed Dean, becoming more nervous.

“Oh, I know what that is, Dean,” said Cas, “That’s a bit like that show you watch—Dr. Sexy! Except more funny moments. Like those cartoons you showed me if you don’t think of the overall meaning of the cartoons.”

Cas smiled as if he was the smartest person in the room. Dean felt extremely embarrassed by it but couldn’t help but smile, laughing a bit as he said, “Uh, sure, Cas. Sort of like that.”

“You’re in love with him, you dolt,” said Loki flatly.

Dean turned, giving Loki the strangest look.

“ _WHAT_?”

“You…you didn’t know that?” asked the fez man, fidgeting with his bowtie, “Ooh, that’s a bit awkward.”

“I wasn’t sure if we were supposed to say it that blatantly to you,” said Sherlock, “I assumed that we were going to give you hints until you guessed it.”

The man in the iron suit shrugged.

“Hey, if this alien freak wasn’t going to say it, I was just going to get it over with. Pull off the band aid of ignorance quickly, you know?”

“Hey!” said the fez man. The man with the iron suit gave him a weird look.

“I wasn’t talking to you…wait, you’re an alien?”

“No, I’m the Doctor.”

“You don’t look like a doctor.”

“Well, what are doctors supposed to look like?”

“ _Me_. I’ve got doctorates coming out the wazzoo,” said the man in the iron suit. The Doctor rolled his eyes.

“Like that’s the _only_ type of doctor. You obviously haven’t been around the universe.”

“Well, _excuse me_ for not having a spaceship I fly around to get to freaking _Asgard_ , I’ll MAKE one when I get home.”

The two glared at each other as Loki smiled.

“We’ve already told the two what’s going on,” said Sherlock, sighing, “Can we go back home now? You all are _boring me_ and I was in the middle of playing the violin for Watson.”

Everyone had their eyes on Dean. Dean, who’s whole being was crumbling. Dean, who wasn’t sure how he was still functioning because he felt as if a mental breakdown was about to ensue.

“B-but uh…I'm not really with the whole, uh, love, and... _love_ …”

Dean trailed off as Cas moved into his field of sight, a look of severe worriment on hir face.

“Are you okay, Dean?” asked Cas. Dean gulped, avoiding Cas’ deep, encompassing eyes.

“I…uh…I’m _super_ , Cas. You know how we talked about personal space?” said Dean, his mind spinning. He felt like he should sit down or _something_.

“Do you really not think you can comprehend love, Dean?” asked Cas, tilting his head and squinting his eyes, “But Dean…I can’t see you’re body. Or for the most part, I ignore it.”

Cas stepped closer.

“I ignore it because I can see your soul, and Dean…Dean, your soul is _beautiful._ ”

Cas closed hir eyes, as if to figure out some way to describe something as intangible as a _soul_.

“ _You_ may not think it, but…your soul’s so _pure_. Your soul is so pure and good because of your love, Dean—you _are_ love. You were chosen as the Righteous Man because of your ability to empathize. You care too much, and that’s what makes you _you_.”

Dean opened his mouth, then closed it. He wasn’t sure what to say. All he could do was stare into those phthalo and cobalt eyes.

Dean woke up, staring up at the ceiling in his room at the bunker. He glanced to the side to see Cas there, just staring at him. Dean slowly sat up, not breaking eye contact with Cas.

“You called me,” said Cas. Dean sighed, putting his face in his hands.

“I’m not sure if I did, Cas,” said Dean, “But I’m glad you’re here.”


End file.
